Going Away

Like the snow birds I will be going away for several weeks in the coming month, and perhaps, depending on wireless connections, not posting or reading as I fly (drive) south.  This is an escape from winter, a reunion with old friends, a vacation, a biding of time at a country home, a visit to a cemetery, and a week's adventure on a Caribbean island.  We seem to want to squeeze it all into one small package before we die and fortunately we have just enough money and just enough health to do that at this time in our lives.  Living frugally and living part of the time overseas has paid us well.

For one of the weeks my husband will be on an adventure of fishing and camping in the wilderness of the Everglades with an old (in his 70's) friend..if the old dude's shoulder mends!  Hubby will be spiritually one with dormant (hopefully) mosquitoes, the abundant (un-hungry) alligators and the ever present potential for catching fish.  He will be sleeping in a tent on platforms throughout the marsh and muddy islands and cooking over a kerosene stove.  If his GPS loses its signal in the thousands of islands, he may be lost forever.  I have no envy of this adventure and will be happy to stay with the friend's wife on their simple country estate in Florida.  The wife (Martha) and I know each other only a little but have much in common, although I still was feeling guilty about descending on her for over a week.  Then it was explained to me that she is very much looking forward to this visit and I saw the light.

First, her husband, while a decent chap, is somewhat tedious, talks too much, tells a few too many off-color tales of young college students he taught a long time ago, and in general, can be a bit of a bore as he is very, very, very smart.  Now in all honesty, the talking too much can be applied to my hubby as well if not the other attributes.  My husband's enthusiasm for life can make him a bit of a bore to others at times also.  So, perhaps, their partnership in the wilderness will be a success and provide both us women with respite while they chase away the wildlife in the glades.

Martha has had much tragedy this past year or more with the diagnosis of a heart condition for her.  This was followed by the death of one of her daughters-in-law, wife of her youngest son, after a lengthy tragic illness.  To add more weighted agony, this widowed son was soon diagnosed with epilepsy causing the loss of his drivers licence and the total dependence on his parents for transport to and from work.  A few months later Martha lost her oldest son to a sudden illness causing her second, now widowed, daughter-in-law to take their only grandchild and move away to be nearer to her family for economic and other reasons.  When I visited Martha last winter she said she was feeling guilty for having panic attacks.  (I, myself, might never crawl out of bed again if faced with these challenges.)  I am always so amazed at the warriors in this world.

Thus, she is looking forward to my visit saying it will be a break for her.  I am going to bring wine and books and maybe some gifts of music CDs and certainly some patience and love.  I first connected with Martha at an outdoor picnic at Wolftrap (an outdoor theater) where she brought wonderful food and wine.  I looked back on that summer evening decades ago...and can only say "What the he**!"  How and why did life turn on her so?

After this visit hubby and I will head to Ft. Lauderdale to visit my husband's parents' graves which we haven't been to in a decade.  These pilgrimages are necessary at times and something I never thought I would do when I was younger and far less nostalgic.

Then we are off to Jamaica, a last minute decision without forethought, an island I have always wanted to visit ever since I saw an Arthur Godfrey (he was an ancient TV personality) show filmed there.  I was about 12 at that time and the beauty of this island has always stayed in my mind.  We will see if the memory lives up to my expectations, because I am aware of the poverty, crime, and other problems of the island.  We are experienced travelers and rarely disappointed when we head out.   It will be difficult in my mind to once again be a very rich person in another land realizing my life is so covered in cotton batting.  This place will require us to be a little less adventuresome and more of a tourist, but the spirit of the Jamaican people has to count for something!  There should be plenty of opportunity for photos...and more boring posts when I return if we do not find ourselves too isolated at the resort and with 'canned' trips.

So until then, unless I can post something while in Florida,  I will be both physically and virtually away AND I will not have to watch the Super Bowl!

Blogging is Not for the Weak of Heart

I never realized that blogging would impact me this way.  I have lost another blogger.  Oh, he never  rarely commented on my blog and I wasn't even on his blog list of blogs that he followed.  Actually, he posted only rarely as well.  He and his wife were the only hippies that I really knew, although vicariously.  Being as I never met them, and he blogged less and less, I guess I can't really say I knew him, can I?  So why do I feel as if I did?  Why do I feel as if we once met somewhere and were just keeping in touch via the Internet?

His independence of spirit and willingness to live his beliefs and his interesting photographs were the things that drew me to reading his blog.  After retirement from being a Postman, he lived in the mountains of Southern California in a tiny house.  He and his wife, a lovely bird-like creature, once a model, sold their car and made do with bicycles to get to the local train station on infrequent shopping and visiting trips.  They belonged to food cooperatives, grew much of their own food, and for the most part lived off the land.  He valued independence from society as most hippies do and was hard on those who did not treat nature with respect.  He was wary of any big brother interference in his life and raised his children by the strict standards he set for himself.

He and his wife had recently moved down to the plains for a brief period to help his mother with her house.  Then, after that, he blogged less.  And then, on January 22, he disappeared from this earth.

Being the self-reliant guy he was, he left no indication he was having health problems and I do not know how Peggy, his wife, is coping and whether she will be able to stay in the home she loved so much.  They were a loving couple clearly happy in this end of life living so close to the earth.  I would never have known what happened to him had not his son, in pain, posted a brief epitaph.  If you want to know more about him and his life style go here.

This blogging is not for the weak of heart nor the loner without a family shoulder to rest on.  It will grab you and shake you to your core and cause you to question your values and ideas and take a long hard look at your life.  When I began blogging it was all about putting into the ether sphere questions and feelings and events of my life...but then the great out there began to impact me back.  Who knew?

For more on Anne Porter

A short gentle video.

http://video.google.com/videoplay?docid=-3311914102309992227#

Not Wanting to Be Seen

Just as the night was fading

Into the dusk of morning

When the air was cool as water

When the town was quiet

And I could hear the sea

I caught sight of the moon

No higher than the rooftops

Our neighbor the moon

An hour before the sunrise

She glowed with her own sunrise

gold in the grey of morning

World without town or forest

Without wars or sorrows

She paused between two trees

And it was as if in secret

Not wanting to be seen

She chose to visit us

So early in the morning.

...Anne Porter,  from Living Things


( I know, no full moon now.)

Doing Things the Hard Way

Not sure why these birds are using the steps up to the deck when they can fly??

Gifts

Some gifts are just so precious that you do not mind oooing and ahhing like a little old lady.  They look as though they were made/selected with love and careful thought instead of made with gears and delivered via conveyor belts after being wrapped in a sterile plastic bubble.  Above is the gift that I received from my son's new girlfriend this past Christmas.  She has met us only a few times, but already she shows insight and taste.  She bought this at a bird store near her home at the edge of  "Pennsylvania's Great Lakes Port City."  I am thinking that our little wren couple, the duo that nest everywhere impractical on my back porch, may find this tiny home inviting come spring.  I can hardly wait!  I already caught the quick shadow of one bird peeking in during one of these dreary winter afternoons.  I find the re-cycled barbed wire for the front 'doorstep' a nice statement...bringing down boundaries.  The whimsy of the curled bark on the roof is the cherry on the frosting roof.

Hollow Whistle

She is biting sharp like the blade of a knife and as cold as the last song of the loneliest sparrow.

This confident weather has thrown me to the ground and has me gulping parchment air.

There was a time when winter was fresh like sparkling ice milk
and soft and delicate like downy white feathers.

There was a time when winter was a novelty
like an antique satin music box
with glittering snow fairies twirling to winter waltzes.

Now is the time when the death rattle of paper leaves is gone
and the birds have cloaked themselves with the dark green thorned holly leaves
or shrouded themselves deep in the barbed rose tangle, huddled frozen puff balls.

Now comes the time when bleak shadows are dark and long witches fingers
and the sun seems embarrassed to try and play the game anymore.

The glow of the water's surface has become opaque steal gray.  The trees bare arms plead silently for forgiveness.  The wind whistles smoothly on its way past us all.

I am a coward and will hibernate until the days grow long once again.

(Everyone has posted such lovely words on winter and I am feeling gray and brave enough to post the other side...)

Use Up and Then Re-use.

Above is my sugar bowl after too much holiday celebrating.  This photo was taken after I added the leftover powdered sugar with red sprinkles from my holiday cookie baking, just a little recycling of the more attractive variety.

We have a small lidded jar on the kitchen counter that gets all the vegetable and fruit peelings, the coffee grounds, the wilted lettuce and anything else that will work to our benefit in the compost pile in the garden.  We do get the rare batch of hatching fruit flies, but if we are careful, they only last a few days.

We take out the leftover grease from the pot roast and carry it to the ravine for the squirrels and foxes.  We dump the shells from clams and oysters at the far edge of the river for the raccoons and otters to clean.  The stale crackers go to the birds and the stale bread to the ducks, and recently, some spoiled raw lamb stew meat to the crows, which was most interesting to watch.

We use the newspaper to mulch the weeds in the garden and recycle all the magazines at the dump along with the rinsed glass and metal and plastic and foil.

We take the clothes, shoes, games, books and other stuff we no longer use to the church store.

We usually take our own cloth bags to the grocery store, but when we forget, we still find uses for the plastic bags that we bring home.  They help group all the zip-locked garden vegetables by type in the chest freezer or they are used for carrying stuff up to my daughter's house or holding the used batteries until we take them in.  We tuck them in our backpacks to carry out any trash we may find on our hiking adventures.  They are useful as shoe-bags in the suitcase.

I return my printer cartridges to the office supply store for a discount on expensive new printer cartridges.

We combine our errands so that we take fewer car trips to the store and post office.

But I am not patting myself on the back because these are such teeny-tiny and common gestures to help reduce our footprint on this planet.  We are not handy types and thus fail to repair or replace broken machinery or appliance items so that they can be used once again.  We are not as careful as we should be on our use of oil and electricity since we are only two people using a big house,  and we tend to move to new technology as soon as we can afford it...me with my camera and PC and my husband with his GPS and boat.

I sincerely believe that global climate change, removal of fossil fuels, disposal of toxic waste, and accidental introduction of non-indigenous species to areas is changing this planet at a hugely rapid rate.  Just watching the natural disaster news for a month proves that.  I work regularly to help my grandchildren learn what fresh natural food tastes like, how being careful with toys and turning off batteries help the planet, and keeping them aware of the fragility of our natural environment as they tramp through it.  But my overall battle plan seems so small and weak and any help you all can give will make this much better.

Thursday Thoughts #31 ---13 Things I Have Learned

1. Working on photos has a lot to do with math and precision and I am not good at either in spite of being known as somewhat an anal retentive bitch.
2. Any other person who called me 2 hours ahead to let me know he was coming to spend the night with a guest would get a piece of my mind or at the very least a lie about our sudden plans...except for my son whom I see not often enough.  Instead, he got a piece of my pot roast.
3. I need to drink more water...really!  (Wine and tea and coffee are not enough.)
4. You don't always get what you ask for or want and more often than not you get something you did not ask for.  I asked for bubble bath for the holidays, and since I found none in my stocking, I ended buying it on sale after Christmas.  I did not ask for a Kindle and did get that.
5. It is hard to find meaningful volunteer work in a rural area if you do not belong to a church.
6. I am a good and patient teacher, except when trying to teach my husband Windows stuff and I think this has more to do with Windows than either him or me (or is that he or I ?).
7. My daughter had dinner with Rob Lowe recently and while they were prepared to talk entertainment industry, to my relief he really wanted to talk politics.  No air head there.
8. Thread was recently found that was 30,000 years old made by humans using plant fibers (wild flax) in different colors on pottery.  It seems mankind has always wanted to make and decorate cloth.
9. Flamingos use a makeup they secrete from a gland near their tail to keep their color bright during the breeding season when the colorful shrimp they eat are not available.  (How long before H. Couture starts selling lipstick made with essence of flamingo butt for thousands of dollars?)
10. One of the most moving exhibits I have ever seen is the Pulitzer Prize Photos Gallery displayed at the Newseum in Washington, DC.  It brought me to tears several times and reinforced my love of the power of photography.
11. A 47 F degree gray day with gusty wind is much colder than a 27 F degree sunny day with no wind.
12. I fear the world will go to 'hell in a hand basket' if my children's generation continue to value "reality" television over reality.  I stumbled across The Bachelor while waiting for another movie to start and actually got nauseous watching the last ten minutes. Why in the hell we spent time burning bras....?
13. And finally, the best thing I learned this year, is that no matter how many new years come around each is a valuable opportunity to do it better this time.

(One thing I wondered about most recently and have not learned is why is bicycle not pronounced like motocycle in the English language?)

The Power of Rhetoric

I wrote a long and complaining post a few weeks ago.  I was smart to sit on it.  I had scheduled it for posting on the 20th of this month and just now I marked it as a draft and will probably not post it, and once I get over myself, will actually delete it.  It was one of those "the world is going to hell in a hand basket" posts.  Since we all know that is true...why belabor the point?  People have enough crud in their minds and probably read blogs for enlightenment or humor...although both of these are in limited amounts on my blog.  The recent Arizona shooting of a large number of people including a Congressman(woman) and a Federal judge brought me to my knees...and most of you know by now that I am not a religious person but certainly spiritual and willing to call on any good powers that be.  But the tragedy also caused me to remove that scheduled post.

This shooting while involving public servants had very little to do with politics, and I think most of the media are missing that point, although by the time I write this, they may be getting more accurate in their questions.  This shooting was no more Republican than President Ronald Reagan's shooting was Democratic.  Drawing a line from this incident to violent rhetoric is also fuzzy and difficult.

The most frightening aspect, to me, was Secretary Gates recent announcement of plans to cut military health care at the same time the talking news heads were discussing the lack of aggressive mental health support for this shooter.  Gates is probably just shaking the bushes as no one will allow this.  He knows that.  He doesn't talk about tighter controls over contracts and lost money in Iraq, unfortunately!  But if anyone needs easy mental health support, it will be our returning troops.

Well enough.  I need to find something more inspiring to post.

Going with the Flow

This is my Chihuly inspired photo of the leaves of fall.  Dave Chihuly, for those who live on the edge of the wilderness, is a famous glass artist.  Born in 1941 his Hungarian, Slavic, Czech, Norwegian, Swedish ancestry may have contributed to his varied and zig-zagged path to glass blowing fame.  He exhibits all over the world and has many permanent and temporary exhibits in museums and hotels and restaurants.  I first saw his work in Las Vegas many years ago.  I recently saw a documentary about him and that inspired my work with the photo of fall leaves above.  I think the fragility of his work lends even more interest as well as controversy to what he does.  The work is mostly beautiful without making a statement as many other art media do.

Below is a photo that I took of pink grasses in the early morning sun at the National Arboretum last fall.  Continuing with the flowing glass theme after some photo-shopping they almost look like glowing or broken glass... no?  My work with digital photos is also just about as fragile as I tend to just experiment without any plan and don't save my steps and therefore, cannot recreate it on a similar photo.  Anyway, I kind of like these, or are people not supposed to say that about their creations?

This Is Your Brain Coral on Hyperbolic Geometry

The photos below are pictures of coral reefs. Well, not actual coral reefs, of course, but reefs replicated through crocheted yarn. Coral forms created by many hands. This was on display in the Hall of Ocean Science at the Smithsonian Museum of Natural History this winter.  I could have spent quite a while studying the colors and shapes and there were several displays throughout the room of this incongruous craft at a natural science museum.

Appear to be some soft corals here.

Blue Jellyfish

Coral colored corals.

One of my favorites

All of these structures have been completed with great accuracy in terms of  relational size and shape...perhaps not in terms of color.  This project reaches across five continents and there are many exhibits in other parts of the globe.  What does this have to do with hyperbolic geometry?  What does it have to do with how gender changes science?  What on earth does it have to do with coral reef science?  Well, go here for a few minutes of blowing your mind and be sure to watch the TED talk linked on the page.  I just love this stuff!  (You should be able to get a closer look if you click on the photos.)

A (Wo)Man and (Her)His Dog

This post is in honor of Barry who touched many of us with his love of his dog and his blogging tales of their many walks together.

We have always had a dog in the family as long as I can remember.  That is until Buster, a mixed breed mutt, passed away about 10 years ago.  Then with the children moving out and with us changing houses we decided to hold off on getting another canine companion for a while.  Dogs have usually been an important part of my life.  I got my first dog, a collie, when I was about seven years old.  Taking hikes and walks with mans best friend has been the best therapy on gray days.

I have always been surprised at how certain dogs can look at me and I can immediately relate to them.  It is as if we are doing a "Vulcan mind-meld" as we lock eyes and even perhaps put our foreheads together.  We seem to understand each other, have the same energy levels and the same fun levels and actually seem to be exchanging ideas.  This happens to certain dogs whether they are at a shelter or out with their master/mistress.  One day I will take one of these mind-meld dogs home if he is free.

While walking around the National Mall last month, and checking out the many museums, I also had time to watch those who had brought their best friend out for the day.  This fellow and his dog in the photo below are very close.  All he had to do was shift an elbow or raise an eyebrow and the dog would respond with glee or by doing a trick.  The dog spent about 5 minutes just following commands for the man before they went on their way.

This gal and her dog had a very different relationship as both were free spirits here mimicked by their flowing locks.  There was a spring in their step as they walked by me.  They exchanged mischievous glances upon discovering the doves gathering on the lawn nearby.  Neither her she nor the dog wanted to follow any commands this day and I could tell when she first saw the doves in the lawn that skipping with her dog to that feathered group was the only fun challenge that was on both their minds as they locked eyes in agreement.  The geese in the far background were also wary of this game and sensed the mischievous nature of their stroll.  The dog remained on a leash, of course.  (Yes, these are two of the dozen or so lost photos...this one only exists on Blogger's Picasa and in condensed format.)

He is my other eyes that can see above the clouds; 
my other ears that hear above the winds. 
He is the part of me 
that can reach out into the sea.....Gene Hill

Wishes

What Makes a Classic?

Above is my granddaughter sitting in the basement TV room of my daughter's house watching TV.  She has self-dressed this morning in a black velvet and red-silk Christmas dress with a "diamond" clipped waist bow.  Since it is winter, she has on leggings with orange stripes and her favorite pink-colored socks.  She reminds me of Pippi Longstalking in this funky outfit with a polka dot headband for some more bling.  She will not let anyone touch her hair and wears pigtails only to school.  The rest of the time it must flow with tangled abandon.  One of her favorite movies is Tangled...surprise, surprise.

Here she sits watching the 1930 movie version of A Christmas Carol with Reginald Owen.  I think she is enthralled because the ghost of Christmas past looks a little like the Good Witch in the Wizard of Oz and she is also very much into that tale right now.  She was Dorothy from Oz at Halloween.  She followed this entire movie without break.

I am fascinated that such a classic in black and white and without special effects can hold the interest of a three-year-old in 2010.  It seems a clean story told simply and with universal themes to an un-jaded mind can hold its own and becomes a classic!  What do you think?

Gifting

These are two silver ornaments that are part of the centerpiece on my dining table.

Last year at this time I opened a virtual trunk filled with presents for my bloggers to add to their winter holiday celebrations.  I tried to keep it diverse and filled with love.  I think that some may have enjoyed that because the sizes were correct and the colors were perfect and the style...well, I always have style, don't I?  One of my gifts was not 'just right' for a certain someone and I miss him every single blogging day.  But I cannot help but think he can read blogs without restraint now, and while mine may not be the first blog he reads each day, I know he will get around to it eventually.  I am hoping that whatever holiday you celebrate or honor with holy remembrance in December, it is filled with memories of loved ones now and forever and that you have some wonderful seasonal music to enjoy along with those memories and some delicious seasonal food.  (Like many of you I will be away for the weekend...missing blogging...but loving the time with loved ones.)

The Shortest Day

(Been here and done this...so please be patient with me.)

I grab my down coat and pull it over my pajamas and then slip into my plastic clogs still wearing my woolly slipper socks.  The sun is up but it is having a tough time burning through the heavy cold winter fog although the morning is well underway.  There is no wind, so my coat will be perfect in protecting me from winter's breath.

Grabbing my ever-present camera, I plod down to the dock being careful that I do not slip on the thin coating of frost that covers everything on this early morning turning all surfaces to slippery diamond dust.  Snow is predicted, but this is lovely enough for me right now.

Winter is here and while I still marvel at its stark beauty, I also know that I prefer the other three seasons more as I age.  Winter means I have to move more carefully, I have to dress in layers before I go outside, and the dark of night comes before the dinner hour and lasts well after I get up in the morning.  I am a Mediterranean baby.

Today is my birthday and I used to wonder with resentment why I was born on the shortest day of the year...but now I think it is because my birth is the harbinger of longer days to come and the beginning of the return of spring.  I now view my birthday as sign of good things to come!  I am the bearer of good news.

And look what Gaia brought me as a present early on my day of celebration...an eclipse of the moon!

Update

A follow up to the post below I took Hilary's advice (she is an angel as well as punny and an excellent photographer) and while the *.jpg search did not reveal them it did lead me to another of Windows processes called Recovery (I had used a free restore software without success) and lo and behold I think I got about 80% of them in the two corrupted folders.  I am missing some interesting photos on people and their dogs...a new series I am compiling for myself.  Still don't know where some of them went.  My neighbor lost his Windows PC in a lightning storm and now swears by Linux after he built his new PC...if I only was a little smarter.  OK...if only I was a LOT smarter.

The National Tree

I could not resist posting this photo of the National Tree in front of the White House with the Washington Monument in the background.  The star on top of the tree is being backlit by the winter morning sun.  It was somewhat breathtaking in the cold morning air.  The workers were around on all sides busily taking down fences, collapsing cold metal chairs and removing about an acre of snap-together flooring that had been installed for the tree lighting ceremony just a few days before.  The state trees standing in a circle around the big tree, which were fenced off at the time I was there, seemed smaller then when I saw them years ago.  They were only 3 feet high!  Such is recession I am guessing or maybe it is because we are trying to be green?  I know it is not because I have grown taller!  The National Tree greenery is almost hidden and weighted down by the strings of decorations and lighting.  It is sort of an instant decoration kind of thing.

There is a sad postscript to this photo above.  I had just lost all the photos I took in December.  None of my photos are publishable or worth turning into artwork, but they are mine and hold all my December memories and I am sick about this.  This photo and about 500 others are gone, gone, gone.  I did not delete them.  Something very similar to this happened last September when I was working with about 1,000 photos from my Canada trip and tagging them in my software and 100 from the first file disappeared.  A file recovery did not work.

I use PhotoShop Elements 8 which allows me to index photos by adding subject tags, people tags and even GEO/place tags.  I spent several hours going through bird photos tagging them by species and when I was all done, I checked my email and when I came back the entire December folder and most of the Bird folder were missing their files! Nothing was in my recycle bin and I couldn't find them using Windows Explorer.  Therefore, they were not just disconnected from the photo catalog in PSE8...they were gone!  I have tried to find the solution on the web but mostly Adobe just tells people they must have done something wrong because the software does not delete files by itself...!

I have been reasonably good about backing up photos either on CDs or another hard drive I have...but I only do that once a month, so missed that opportunity by a few days as I was still reviewing and weeding files.  I will get over this.  It is not someone's wedding or birthday photos...just my crap...my precious crap!

Legs

It is said that one goal in life is to grow old gracefully...

On short stubby legs the goal in life was to learn to walk and not fall, to cover as much of the huge world's surface before nap-time and then the next day to learn to run.

On longer, coordinated, energetic legs the goal was to make the goal, to beat the boys, to win the races, to get there first.

On shapely legs the goal was to walk on red stilted shoes without twisting an ankle and with studied grace, and to ignore the cold drafts as the skirts were kept short and the legs were kept bare throughout the long winter.

On efficient nylon-covered legs and librarian style heels the goal was to meet the deadlines and hurry home to feed the short stubby legs without a stumble in the same day.

On varicose and freckled and not-yet-shaved legs the goal was to keep them hidden from critical eyes and be thankful you didn't need a walker or cane like your Aunt.

On arthritic legs the goal was to push through the pain and stiffness and to dance every single dance on through the long wedding evening.

Now the goal is to rise out of bed each morning and learn to walk once again and cover as much of the huge world's surface before nap-time and to be thankful you don't want to run.

Those were the days...!